


From the earth to the fire

by ichor (sbzpruiosnejre)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Astronomy, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hindu religious elements, Hogwarts First Year, Sikh religious elements, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, deadnaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2020-02-28 07:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbzpruiosnejre/pseuds/ichor
Summary: A piece inspired by a prompt from slashaholic666 ontrans_positivity_fiction, exploring Parvati Patil as she begins a new life: at Hogwarts, as a Gryffindor, as a girl.





	1. Daunting Dormitory

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [slashaholic666 (queerlybeloved777)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerlybeloved777/pseuds/slashaholic666) in the [trans_positivity_fiction](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/trans_positivity_fiction) collection. 



> A piece inspired by a prompt from slashaholic666 on [trans_positivity_fiction](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/trans_positivity_fiction/), exploring Parvati Patil.
>     
>     
>      **Prompt:**
>     
>     Posting for my own accountability to finish a plotbunny. Open to any relationship type (M/M, F/F, Multi, etc.). I haven't specified characters, but I would like to see minor or background characters, especially someone other than the Trio if the character is a student at Hogwarts.

The hat descends upon her head, dipping past her eyes and tickling her nose. A small voice whispers in her ear.

" _The creative sort, you are, but there's something more - determination and courage marks you well, and though your loyalty to your twin keeps you tethered... you'd do so well in_  GRYFFINDOR!"

With the final word screamed to the Great Hall, the Sorting Hat is lifted from her head.

Parvati stumbles to the table of red and gold, eyes wide as she stares across to where her sister just left to - Ravenclaw. For the first time in their life, they're apart. Every moment guessing at their house, every giggle over how they'll stay awake chatting well into the night, every assumption that they'd be together... it all flashes through her mind.

As she takes her seat, her eyes close, blocking out the applause of her new housemates. Soon she'll need to confront one more terrifying mystery: where she will sleep. She had expected Padma to be at her side, her calm reassurance that it would be fine.

* * *

"Parthiv," her father starts, then freezes. The erumpent in the room. Parvati stares at her plate, the misal pav untouched. " _Parvati_." He corrects himself, but the damage is done. Her stomach clenches uncomfortably. Silence reigns for a few long seconds before he goes on. "I wrote to this Professor McGonagall," he says gently, brandishing one of the Hogwarts acceptance letters in a wave, "and it's all been sorted. Your name has been corrected on their records, and you should be accepted into the girls' dorm."

"Should be." Her voice is soft, repeating it with a shake of her head. "That's not sorted, bābā."

Silence, again. She hates it. Are they judging her? Do they think she's causing a fuss over nothing?

"There... is something of an issue with the dormitories." He's trying to be tactful, but it only frustrates her more. "Some sort of magic, they only provide enough space for as many girls as there are in a year. McGonagall couldn't promise that they'd have confirmation until you are already there."

"So I'm expected to turn up and hope they have space for me?" Her expression must show how pained she is, for the looks her family shoot her are full of concern. "This is wrong! I  _am_  a girl!" Rising, her chair squeaks loudly across the linoleum. "No dormitory is going to tell me I'm not."

She storms to her room, ignoring their pleas to calm down.

* * *

"And up here, you'll find your dormitory." The prefect hasn't said anything about her. She simply leads them up the spiral staircase and opens the door. One by one, they enter. Lavender, Sally-Ann, Fay, and Hermione.

It's her turn. Parvati swallows hard before entering, dreading what she expects: four beds, no room for her. There's a cat just inside the doorway, one that seems strangely familiar though she can't place it. Her eyes brush past the other girls, counting the four-poster beds arranged in a circle.

One, two, three, four... five.

Her trunk, painted with patterns in extraordinary colours, sits at the end of one.

Collapsing into the sheets, she balls the quilt into her hands, sobbing in joy at the comfort and the knowledge that she  _belongs_.

* * *

"We'll be able to do everything together," Parvati gushes as they walk through Diagon Alley. "We'll still share a room, of course, and I'll make room for you during any storms - Ravenclaw is meant to be in one of the towers, isn't it?" Her sister nods. "We can talk well into the night and do our homework together - you can do Transfiguration, you're doing so well with reading through bābā's books. I'll handle charms."

Padma nods slowly, eyeing the windows. She knows that look. Her twin isn't half as interested in dresses and jewellery as she is.

"What is it?"

A sigh. That's bad. "What if... we can't?"

"Can't what?" They stop, and Parvati pulls her towards the windows before they're jostled by other shoppers. " _Padma_. You're scaring me!"

"What if you're not in the same dormitory? They might put you in one by yourself, maybe. Then we couldn't be together." Padma's bottom lip trembles, on the verge of tears. "I don't want to be without you, Par." It's silly, Padma's nickname for her ever since they were small, much easier than either of her names. It warms her chest. Just knowing how much her twin would miss her reminds her that she's loved, no matter what. She could be worse off.

"I'll march straight to the headmaster!" They share a grin. "I will!" she insists. "I'll tell him he has it all wrong, and if I have to have my own room, it's only right you get to share with me. And  _then_  we'll decorate it, almost like home, it'll be wonderful..."

* * *

She wakes earlier than the rest of them. Brushing through her hair, Parvati watches as Hermione springs from the bed, then Sally-Ann awakens, followed by Fay, and finally Lavender groans into the waking world. Mere minutes must have passed, but it feels like a lifetime as she traces their features, committing them to memory. Without Padma, these are the girls she must know and trust each night and with all of her belongings.

Each of them use the attached bathroom - she's already been - and then they're all getting dressed. That's when she hesitates, dragging her uniform back into the bathroom. There she dresses, staring at a wall as she does. Lavender gives her an odd look on her return, but nothing is said.

* * *

"This!" Her mother beams as she holds the robes up against her frame. "Yes, yes, this will go very nicely." The enthusiasm is cripplingly embarrassing, and Parvati ducks her head down as one of the tailors' other customers walks by. "Hmm. Something for your hair as well?" Even as she speaks, her mother is digging past hats and rifling through bows.

" _Mātā_ ," Parvati groans, looking at them in horror. "Honestly, my hair is fine! Maybe some hair ties instead?"

She ignores the dubious look she receives, but they figure it out together - a headband and some scrunchies, almost as plain as from the muggle shop. She's happy, though, to build up her new wardrobe. Robes aren't awfully gendered, but she wants to feel feminine.

Just not her mother's vision of  _feminine_.

* * *

Professor McGonagall pulls her aside on the way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Ms. Patil," she says, that stern face breaking with a neat, purposeful smile. "Now, I'm very pleased that you've settled into the dormitory."

Gazing up at her face, she catches the shape of her spectacles and gasps, a hand to her mouth. The cat had such odd markings about its face. Could it be..? No, impossible. Of course Human Transfiguration is a thing, but it seems so improbable.

She realises McGonagall is gazing at her with concern. "Sorry - yes, I have. I found all of my belongings waiting for me."

"Good." There's an abruptness to the professor's voice, something she noted the evening before, but it doesn't seem to be hostile. "I wanted to assure you personally that we are doing our utmost best to attend to your needs. If you are ever in need of anything, please come see me at once."

Parvati nods.

"There are a few other matters to attend to as you progress through your schooling. Nothing to worry yourself over, of course. We'll approach them as needed. You should be aware of our school matron, Madam Pomfrey - she has been informed of your condition, and is known to be both reliable and discreet--"

"Professor," she interrupts, and feels terrible for doing it as the witch is cut off. "Sorry. But, um. Can we not refer to it as my 'condition'? This is... this is how I am.  _Who_  I am."

There's a pause, and she's frightened she's overstepped.

"Of course. I apologise," McGonagall says profusely. "What I mean to say is that Madam Pomfrey is there for you as well."

"Thank you, miss."

"To breakfast then - I have your timetables to deliver."


	2. First Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parvati goes through a frightful first day at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little delayed, but here it is! I've removed one section from the last chapter to put into this chapter instead, as I wanted to focus on that first day.
> 
> Also, if anybody has any experience or knowledge or resources about life as a British-Indian girl, I would love to speak to you! I'd really love to incorporate some more culture into Parvati's life.
> 
> Additional note: Ilse Moon is a rename for the character 'Lily Moon' from the original forty.

She sits at the Gryffindor table with her dorm-mates that first breakfast, casting longing looks towards Padma over her shoulder as she eats cereal. Professor McGonagall arrives midway through to hand out slips of parchment detailing their lessons each day and where.

"Professor, are we allowed to sit at the other tables?" Parvati asks.

Her Head of House looks momentarily stunned, as though she isn't asked such a thing usually. "Yes, of course you may. Only not at feasts or in emergencies."

She doesn't like the thought of any emergencies at school, but she smiles gratefully. "Thank you." Rising from her seat, she makes her way over to her sister, sitting down between Padma and one of the boys - Anthony Goldstein, she thinks.

"Oh, Par!" Padma gasps, startled. "How is Gryffindor?" is her first question, tentative as it is, avoiding the biggest worry of yesterday.

"Very, very far," she answers, playing it up with an exhausted expression. "It's so high!" Her twin nods in sympathy as she continues. "But all of my dorm-mates have been really nice."

The hint doesn't go amiss. "I'm so glad for you!" Padma gives a little squeal of excitement, taking hold of her arms. "You must tell me all about them."

"Lavender hasn't really said anything  _ to _ me, but she talks almost constantly. Hermione hasn't gone without a book in her hand since we woke up. Fay is very giggly, and Sally-Ann smiles a lot." With time, she hopes that she'll be able to call them her friends. Even if she is very nervous about getting to know them. "I cried a lot last night, and they all asked if I was okay or if they could help, which was nice. What about your dorm-mates?"

Nodding, the newly-crested Ravenclaw casts a glance around at the others before she says, "Amanda, who prefers being called Mandy, by the way, is the best, she really helped me settle in last night. Isobel is  _ very _ loud, though I don't think I've heard Sue say a word! Lisa has been very kind as well, I let her borrow my hairbrush this morning and she gave it back as promised."

As thrilled as she feels for her sister, Parvati can't help but be a little jealous. When she was first growing out her hair, she used to borrow her hairbrush all the time. Now somebody else could share those things.

"I really miss you," she confesses.

Padma squeezes her forearms. "I miss you too. But we'll still see each other so much. Don't worry, Par."

* * *

Their very first lesson is Transfiguration, with the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws in attendance. Padma is already with one of her dormmates. She sits at a desk beside Sally-Ann, a bespeckled, blonde girl who greets her with a usual smile. There's no chance to chat before their attention is stolen by Professor McGonagall who calls for their attention.

Given some transcribing to do, copying out the writing on the board, and she makes sure to do it in her best handwriting.

All of a sudden, Professor McGonagall whirls around shrinks until she disappears entirely. Gasps spread through the classroom as they search for where she went.

A cat jumps atop the teacher's desk, settling down to sit and watch them.

"I knew it," Parvati whispers, noticing the shape of her spectacles again.

* * *

Lunch goes well, and she sits with Padma again. There she meets Mandy, who beams at her in such a way that she feels all her nerves about talking to new people shrink back. They chat over sandwiches.

"Where are you from?" Parvati asks.

Mandy chats away about Gateshead, a town in northern England, where she grew up. No wonder Padma likes her - she can carry on a conversation all by herself! When she eventually gets to interject with a second question, her plate only has crumbs on it, while Mandy still has a whole triangle to eat.

"What do you think your favourite lesson will be?"

"Oh, probably Astronomy, I just think that the sky is  _ so _ beautiful and the  _ stars _ are just… well, divine, really! Actually, Charms might be nice as well, because there are all sorts of useful little spells that—"

Parvati interrupts, keen to learn more about her which doesn't involve going through each of the core subjects. "Did you think you'd be in Ravenclaw?"

With a frown, which doesn't suit her face at all, Mandy pauses for several long seconds, chewing even though there's nothing in her mouth. "Not really," she admits.

When she doesn't say anything else, Parvati catches the hint and turns to talk to Padma.  
  


* * *

Ilse Moon stands next to her in Herbology, Lavender on her other side. The Hufflepuffs don't really stand out to her very much, though she has to keep apologising whenever she bumps her elbow against Ilse's arm.

The fourth time, the blue-eyed girl sighs, "Please be more careful."

Parvati is taken back by the exasperation in her voice. "I'm really sorry, I've never really been very good with plants. I don't want dirt under my fingernails."

"It's not going to hurt you." Ilse rolls her eyes and loudly asks the boy on her other side - Ernie Macmillan, she thinks his name is - to swap places with her.

Taking much more care with the potting of the small bouncing bulb, Parvati looks down at her pot in silence, embarrassment boiling inside.  
  


* * *

Charms she finds the most difficult subject. After their first introductory lesson, laden with demonstrations of all sorts of spells, they're given their first load of homework. It seems like only a few questions about how charmwork works, but Parvati finds herself in the Gryffindor common room struggling over every one. Slouched over one of the tables, she groans as she wraps an arm around her head.

"This is so  _ hard _ ," she complains. Hermione's already done it - Hermione Granger does all of her homework as soon as she gets it, apparently. She's not even in the common room, not like most of the others. Apparently she spends most of her time in the library.

Whoever heard of holing up in the library in the first week of term?

Fay looks just as tortured as she does, but she's got almost half a foot of writing done already! "How in Merlin's name have you managed so much?" Parvati gasps.

"I just write nonsense until something sticks, and then it makes it look like I've written a lot of sense," Fay confesses. "I'll probably be marked down for some of it, if they do that, because it's a waste of reading… but at least it's something!"

Staring at her page, she tries to do as Fay is doing, just writing.

_ A counter-charm is a spell that counters another spell like the wand-lighting charm can be countered by the wand-exstinguishing charm. That means that when you say lumos to make a light you can say nox to make the light go out. _

"It kind of works," Parvati says happily, scribbling down some more. It feels better not to have a blank page as well, even if it isn't the best writing she could do.

* * *

Parvati leans towards her sister at the Ravenclaw table. "I'm  _ desperate _ for the loo," she admits in a hushed whisper. "Do you think there's time for me to get to the tower before class?"

Going to the girls' bathrooms across the castle isn't very comfortable. It makes her stomach twist up and clench hard.

"I don't think so, Par," Padma mumbles back.

People say they get butterflies in their tummy. She must be host for a bunch of rocks, with how heavy her stomach just sunk.

"But... there's the second floor bathroom? It's not really used, but they can just use magic for things, and nobody will go in there," her twin suggests. "I'll come with you, if you want?"

"No, I'll be fine. Thanks."

Cautious, Parvati picks up her bookbag and slips out of the Great Hall, making her way up to the second floor. It takes her a short while to figure out where the bathroom is, wishing she'd asked Padma to come with her after all. She pushes open the door and dashes to a stall, only to find it absolutely  _ disgusting _ and half the ceramic bowl chipped. The next stall is better, though not by much.

She relieves herself, then approaches the circular set of sinks, running blisteringly cold water. There's no soap, but at least there is water.

"Oo-ooh! Who are  _ you _ ?"

The voice comes out of nowhere, and she half jumps out of her skin.

A ghost with round glasses floats down from the ceiling, eyes wide and misty. "I don't get very visitors here," she says, pouting.

"Who are you?" Parvati manages to say, but she can't help noticing her voice sounds shaky.

"Nuh-uh! I asked you first."

"I'm... Parvati Patil."

The ghost looks her over, tilting her head one way and then the other. "Well  _ I'm _ Myrtle.  _ Moaning _ Myrtle, they say." She floats closer. "And this is  _ my _ bathroom."

"Is that why it's so dirty? I didn't think ghosts could use toilets." It's an honest wonder, as she looks around the grubby room. "Doesn't the caretaker ever clean in here?" Maybe the ghost scares him off, though she can't think why - he doesn't seem like the sort who'd be scared of ghosts, not from what she heard some of the older students say.

It's the wrong thing to say, and she regrets it the moment she hears that awful whooping cry. Myrtle does a somersault in the air, wailing her head off. "Oh, you're mean! Just like the rest of them! All those horrid girls. 'It's dirty in here', they say. 'Ew, who would want to use this bathroom?' they giggle. 'Who would want to be friends with  _ Myrtle? _ '"

"I didn't say that!" Parvati says quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean— I just wondered—"

"Everybody  _ wonders _ but nobody  _ thinks _ about me. Stuck in here! In this awful castle with its awful girls and nobody ever comes visit meeeee!" The last word trails off into a scream as she flies around the room, plunging with a loud splash into one of the stalls.

Parvati hurries out of the bathroom, eyes wide.

* * *

 

"I love your hair." Lavender blurts it out a few days into term, as they prepare for bed. "It's so lovely. Not like my hair." She tugs at the frizziness of it all and smiles.

Parvati smiles back. "I love your hair. It's got character, you know. I might be able to braid it, if you like, into a plait. I used to do it for my sister all the time." Not any longer - Padma has long since learned to do it herself expertly, and now their mornings are spent in two different towers.

"I'd like that. Do you braid your hair?"

"No... I've never tried, actually." She tilts her head to the side. "I should though. I can show you how, and then we can do it for one another!"

Their smiles widen, and then Lavender comes to sit beside her on her bed. They talk well into the night, whispering and giggling along, much to the annoyance of their dorm-mates.


	3. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons turn out to be a mix of good and disappointing, while ghosts and ghouls seem to plague Parvati even more.

Parvati hasn’t taken much notice of Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived, they keep saying. She’s heard it said before, probably from her parents, but nobody really explains what it _means_. There’s all this talk about You-Know-Who but nobody says what he actually did to get rid of him! Padma just shrugs it off, but she’s still curious.

Her first real impression of him came on Wednesday morning. He seems to always spend time with the red-haired boy, and on the way to breakfast she heard the latter say he knew a shortcut. There’s a nervousness to his voice that suggests he only _thinks_ he knows a shortcut, so she sticks by Fay and Lavender to the staircases.

It’s not much surprise that the two of them end up late to the Gryffindor table.

“I told you it was the wrong door,” Harry mutters, sitting down beside her. She sits by Lavender, occasionally looking over at Padma. If her twin even notices her, she doesn’t act like it, chatting away with the other Ravenclaws.

“I know that now.” The redhead looks glum, chin resting on his hand. “I can’t believe Filch is like that! He’s so… horrible.”

Parvati leans over. “What happened?”

Shrugging, Harry answers: “We got lost. Ron thought he knew the way. And then a door looked pretty familiar, like the sort you’d find a staircase behind, you know? I guess not in this castle though.” He glances to his friend. “It was locked. Filch found us and went on and on about how we were trying to break in. He said he’d _shackle_ us in his office.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? That sounds terrible! Teachers shouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Filch is the caretaker,” Lavender adds helpfully.

“Well, still.” Lavender smiles.

“Anyway,” Harry says, “Quirrell came along and got us out of there at least. He’s… pretty weird, but he’s much, much better than Filch.”

The three of them nod in agreement.

“It’s lucky he was there to get you out of trouble. Where were you really?” Parvati asks, frowning. She remembers Dumbledore’s speech at the beginning, about the third floor corridor, but she doesn’t think there’s any shortcut that would go by there. She’s sure they split off at the fourth floor, not the third.

Ron shrugs. “Third floor, I guess. We thought we were on the second floor.”

“Maybe next time you’ll just go down the stairs? If there was a good shortcut, the prefects would have told us.” She thinks so anyway. Most of Percy’s speech going up to the tower on the first night was a little drowned out by her worries.

“Yeah. Whatever.” Harry dismisses it with a roll of his eyes, tucking into his breakfast.

She looks at Lavender, mouthing, “He’s rude,” and gets a nod in return. Parvati shakes her head, shifting up the bench to ignore the two boys again.

* * *

“We have to go at _night_ for a class?” Sally-Anne asks in confusion.

“I suppose it’s the only way we can see the sky properly,” Hermione reasons, looking around at the others as they march along the corridor. “Though, really, if wizards can make the sky appear in Great Hall, why can’t they in a classroom too?”

Primrose Lockett, the fifth-year prefect, answers, leading the way. This time Parvati actually notices her. “It’s a little more complicated than that. While it can simulate the sky, magic has its own limits. You can’t use a telescope on the Great Hall’s ceiling to zoom in and see a planet, because you’d just see what the spell shows. Not what’s actually there. Astronomy has plenty more about it than just stars. Midnight is when it’s best to see them properly.” She turns, smiling at the ten Gryffindor first-years. “I promise, no matter what you make of the class, there’s nothing quite like seeing the night sky.”

Parvati finds, half an hour later as Professor Sinistra sets them to scanning the sky for constellations, that she’s quite right.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Lavender whispers, lying beside her on plump cushions, her hand raised and finger pointed to trace Leo.

“It is,” she agrees. “What does it have to do with magic though?” She can’t help but wonder. Is it like the astrological signs? She’s read muggle magazines that have all these predictions with astrology, and even Witch Weekly has its own monthly segment with Astra Logic.

“I don’t know. But it’s nice.”

Professor Sinistra calls for their attention at the end of the lesson. “Miss Lockett will take you back to the common room now. Sleep well, dream of stars - and please make sure to read the first chapter ready for next week’s lesson!”

Parvati sits in bed only twenty minutes later with the other girls, Hermione’s wand lit and balanced in the middle of their dormitory, as they read. They’re all far too wide awake to even think of sleeping now.

* * *

Peeves the poltergeist likes to torment students. That’s what everybody kept saying - the ghosts, the prefects, even the professors would sigh about Peeves’ latest exploits. Parvati counts herself lucky that it took a few days for her to even _see_ the poltergeist, because some of the others saw him earlier.

“Peeves took my books and flung them down the corridor!” Fay said on Tuesday, looking at her dog-eared textbooks all scuffed.

On Wednesday, Lavender was late to Charms, her hair even more chaotic and frizzy than usual. “Peeves, sir,” she answered when Flitwick asked why she was late.

It’s on Thursday when Parvati finds him. She’s on the way to the second-floor girls’ bathroom (hoping a little that Moaning Myrtle might not be there) when a cackle echoes from around the bend. At first she doesn’t get it, thinking maybe there’s others playing pranks or laughing together.

When she turns the corner she gets it.

A floating man in a hat with bells spots her immediately. He points a finger her way, skin a strange blue-green, like nothing she’s ever seen before. “You! Ickle firstie,” he giggles. “Whatchoo doin’ down here, hmm?”

Parvati blinks. “I’m… going to the bathroom.” Is he a sir? She doesn’t think so. She thinks this might be Peeves, but she isn’t sure either.

“Uh-oh! Don’t wet yourself now,” he laughs, and floats away, straight through a wall.

Shaking her head, she keeps going down the corridor. The sound of water splashing gets closer. Maybe Myrtle is in there.

She reaches the door and pushes it open. Water drains out, up past her ankles, and then _SPLASH_! It falls down over her head, a bucket clanging against the wall as she, soaked, dripping with what must be a whole bathful of water, shivers. Her clothes weigh so heavy as she squeals and runs away to the staircase. All she can think of is to get changed and warm up by the cosy fireplace of the common room.

* * *

“Professor Binns is a _ghost_?” she gasps, walking into the History of Magic classroom. Until then, she hadn’t given much thought to whether the ghosts could teach. But seeing him at the chalkboard, bobbing along like Nearly Headless Nick, she realises she hadn’t heard anything about Binns before. Or seen him. Primrose had pointed out most of the teachers to them at breakfast on Tuesday, and Binns hadn’t been mentioned at all.

The Hufflepuffs are with them, so she ends up sitting next to Megan Jones while Lavender grabs a desk with Sally-Anne.

Binns’ voice drones as they all take their places. “History of Magic is about the history of magic. You will learn about the International Statute of Secrecy, goblin rebellions, the history of the Ministry of Magic and the Wizards Council. At the end of the year we will have a test on the Wizards Council. Next year we will have a test on…”

She can’t possibly keep her attention fixed on him. Hands placed either side of her head, she props open her eyes with her little fingers at her eyebrows, but that doesn’t stop her from being drowsy.

“Now write this down. Emeric the Evil… all manner of evil spells… Uric the Oddball had fifty augureys… driven mad by their moaning… Egbert the Egregious was one of the finest duellists… this shows us how brutal times were before the founding of Hogwarts… next week we will learn about the founders. Class is dismissed.”

Parvati finds herself even writing that last bit down, so stuck in making sure she has it all down, for she surely won’t remember any of his boring words. She hurries out to join with the others, with Megan claiming that she fell asleep (she didn’t, but Parvati nods generally in acknowledgement).

“That was the most _boring_ lesson yet,” Sally-Anne whines, heading on towards their next class.

“I hope Charms is better,” she agrees. “Flitwick seemed like he might be fun.”

Her disappointment at having just a second, less demonstrative introductory class is overcome by her glee at watching the small wizard finish the lesson with more of a showcase on all the spells they’d be learning that year. By the end of Charms, she’s positively excited to learn, and wonders if maybe putting History of Magic as the first lesson of the day is some kind of test of their willpower.

* * *

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom smells horrible, like garlic. Parvati wrinkles her nose and sits beside Lavender at the back of the classroom, which is moderately better than near the teacher’s desk.

“I don’t get why he wears a turban. It looks so _weird_ on him,” her dorm-mate whispers.

Frowning, she looks at her. “Maybe it’s a cultural thing. My dad wears a turban.” Lavender blushes. “My aunt does as well. They’re Sikhs… maybe Professor Squirrel is as well?”

“It’s Professor _Quirrell_ ,” Hermione corrects, sitting in the row before them. “That is interesting though. I hadn’t thought about wizards having religions as well. Your father is a wizard, isn’t he?”

She’s amazed at just how nosy Hermione Granger can be. “He is. And my mum’s a witch. They don’t believe in it all… There’s a god that they don’t believe in but tell my sister and I stories about. My family believes more in gurmat.” At Hermione and Lavender’s confused faces, she goes on, “It’s like… what we should do. There are three pillars. Meditation, honest living, and selflessness. They—”

Parvati’s interrupted by the putrid smell of garlic that wafts around as Professor Quirrell strides to the back of the classroom to close the door, and then walks past them again. Lavender gags next to her, and Hermione turns around to focus as the lesson begins.

When they’re set to start reading the first chapter of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ , Parvati leans over to Lavender and whispers, “Sikhs don’t put garlic in or around their turban though, so I’m not sure why he smells so bad.”

Her friend giggles, and that’s the last they say about it as Hermione glances over her shoulder to glare at them.

Once the lesson winds down to an end, she raises her hand, and Quirrell nods to her. “Sir, why do you wear a turban?” The disappointed faces of her classmates glance around - even some of the Slytherins at the front look a little interested to hear his reply.

The professor stammers out, “Oh! Oh, well… I was g-given it as a g-gift, a reward, by an African p-prince. I helped g-get rid of a t-troublesome zombie for his p-people.”

“How did you get fight the zombie?” Seamus Finnegan asks eagerly.

Professor Quirrell turns a distinct shade of pink, almost as vivid and dark as his purple turban. “Lovely weather we have t-today, d-don’t we? Good for g-getting out in. Run along n-now.”

Disappointment blankets them all again, and Parvati sighs with Lavender as they pack their bags.

* * *

“You haven’t been visiting me.”

She says it so sulkily that Parvati wonders if Moaning Myrtle has forgotten what happened last time she was in the bathroom. But she’s desperate and Peeves isn’t around so it seems safe enough.

Except Myrtle is floating around and looking mournful.

“I haven’t needed to, much,” Parvati says, scurrying towards one of the stalls, checking that the toilet isn’t too bad. It is, and looks clogged, so she moves onto the next one.

“The fourth one works sometimes,” Myrtle offers.

She checks, and it doesn’t seem as gross. “Thanks,” she says brightly, fetching toilet paper from the other stall and ripping off some to line around the seat. Once she’s finished, she flushes the toilet and leaves to go to the sinks. The taps won’t turn though.

Moaning Myrtle swoops down to be right by her. Immediately the air chills, and she shivers.

“Will you visit more?” the ghost asks, leaning in far too close.

Parvati keeps trying some more of the taps. “Um. Probably.” One of the taps squeaks and water flows out, thick green sludge filling the sink, hardly going down the drain at all. “Is there any way to make this work?”

“I don’t know. I can’t _touch_ it, can I?”

“Have you ever seen anybody get clean water out of this?” she presses. Myrtle doesn’t answer, so she tries, “It’s just… I’d be able to visit more if the taps work properly.”

It works. “Ohhhh. Well… Yes,” Moaning Myrtle admits, floating around the column. “Laurel Macmillan used this one when she used to come here. She’d let it run for ages first, and then it would get clearer. Just clean up the goo with your wand.”

“What spell cleans it up?”

Moaning Myrtle looks at her, pushing up her glasses. “A scouring charm, of course! I think she used _skurge_.”

“Oh.” Parvati runs the tap, watching as more of the sludge comes out. “What _is_ this anyway?”

“Ectoplasm,” the ghost says simply. “The caretaker is _supposed_ to sort it out, but he _never_ does. Stupid squibs! They can barely see me, you know. Only if I’m really loud and close. But he still won’t clean my bathroom! No wonder nobody ever comes in here!” She wails again, flying up towards the ceiling.

The sound grates through her. “I’ll try to help. Once I know the spells for it… I’ll try.”

Moaning Myrtle immediately stops, smiling at her. “Your water’s clean now,” she announces. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Primrose Lockett is an original character who may well show up some more. Ectoplasm is a feature more of the games than other canon, but is something I like to include for extra ghostly plots.


	4. Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the weekend approaches and passes, Parvati explores her identity and considers how to fill up some free time.

On Friday, their only lesson is potions. The conversation at the Gryffindor table starts decidedly miserably.

"Snape's Head of Slytherin House," Parvati overhears Ron telling Harry. "They say he always favours them - we'll be able to see if it's true."

Glum, Fay slumps on the bench as she swirls her Cheeri Owls around in her bowl. It isn't like her to look even serious, let alone depressed. "It's going to be  _ horrible _ dealing with all the Slytherins in one place."

"Or maybe they'll leave us alone, trying to be good for their Head of House?" Parvati suggests, snacking on some toast covered in strawberry jam.

Her optimism is quickly shot down.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape intones following the register. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses ... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Eyes wide, Parvati turns to Lavender beside her, an outrage on her lips, but she daren't speak.

The exchange between Harry and Snape that follows - "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" "I don't know, sir." - makes her feel deeply uncomfortable. Apparently he's very keen on putting the scruffy-haired boy in his place, and the longer it went on, the more she wants to rush out of the room. The professor even ignores Hermione's eager hand in his want to interrogate Harry. That's when she shut her eyes, screwing them up to block it out. All of it reminds her so much of one of her friend's mothers.

* * *

"So you're a girl now?" sniffs Yasmin Devonside. Her daughter, Inaya, sits with the twins in the Devonside living room.

Parvati ducks her head down. "I... I've always been a girl."

The loud scoff in return causes her shrink into herself. "Parthiv! Don't be so ridiculous."

She knew their families had plenty of differences - still, they lived close enough that she'd practically been brought up around Inaya. There had been a time when they'd needed to stick together, supporting one another, and it had created a deep bond between Yasmin and mātā. Ever since, Yasmin had felt almost like a second mother.

Until then.

"I am," she whispers. "I'm a girl."

"Pah! You're a boy, and you're always going to be a boy. Why are you lying, hm?"

Parvati swallows the lump in her throat. "I'm not lying, Auntie Yasmin."

She rolls her eyes. "What do you want to be a girl for?"

"I  _ am _ a girl," she tries.

"Lies. Parthiv, do you want to wear dresses?"

"I don't know."

"You must know! Are you going to wear your sister's skirts?"

Shaking her head, Parvati stands abruptly. "I don't know, auntie. I... I'm going to the bathroom." She rushes from the room, tears beading and slipping down her cheeks.

* * *

"Par?" Padma calls for her. She hunkers down in the toilet stall, hoping Moaning Myrtle won't give her away. The ghost had tried to cheer her up, but she'd wanted to be left alone. Surprisingly, Myrtle hadn't bothered her. "Par, I know you're in here!"

Sighing, Parvati unlocks the stall door and steps out, brushing at her wet cheeks. "How'd you know?"

"I didn't." Her sister smiles, walking over to hug her close. "Lavender said you ran out of potions so fast, that you looked upset... what happened?"

It's easy to lose herself in the comfort of her sister's arms, letting the pain of the memory fade away. "I was thinking about Auntie Yasmin..."

She can feel Padma tense before the soothing strokes of fingers through her hair begins. "It's okay," she murmurs. "Everybody really likes you here, don't they? They aren't going to bother you, and bābā won't let you be around her either."

As much as she knows it's true, a tear still trickles out of her eye. Parvati wipes it away, sniffing back another as she pulls back. "Okay. I know. Snape just reminds me of her."

"That's because he's  _ mūrkha  _ too," Padma giggles. "Ignore him, ignore her. It's simple."

It sounds simple, but she isn't so sure. "I'll try."

* * *

There isn't much to do at the weekend, but some of the girls end up hanging out in the common room. Hermione sits with another new book, while Lavender practises braiding Sally-Anne's hair next to her. It's peaceful. Parvati scribbles down some notes from their astronomy textbook, making sure she gets every detail ready for next week.

"How are you settling in?" Primrose sits down on the sofa next to her, one of her soft smiles passed around to the four of them. 

Parvati closes her book, though doesn't know what to say. It's Sally-Anne who answers first. "Really well! I'm excited for all the classes. Professor Flitwick says we're going to work on the Wand-Lighting Charm plenty first." She's beaming as brightly as the demonstration of the spell.

Nodding, the prefect smiles again. When nobody else answers, she says, "You'll have your first flying class next week. The clubs start next week too, so make sure to check the noticeboard for those."

"What clubs are there?" Parvati asks.

"There's the gobstones club, potions club, art club, card collectors' club, knitting club…" None of them are very interested in any of them. Until the next. "Oh, and astronomy club, of course!"

"Gobstones and astronomy sound like fun," she says eagerly, looking towards Lavender and Sally-Anne. "We could do astronomy together!"

Sally-Anne hesitates. "But won't it be at night again?"

"It's at nine-thirty on a Wednesday, a few hours before your lesson. All students can come, but normally it's very quiet," Primrose explains. "Sometimes, Professor Sinistra even lets people stay for longer if you have a lesson with her soon."

Gazing at Lavender, the two swap an awed look. "We have to go," Parvati determines, looking back at Primrose. "Do you go too?"

"Sometimes. I'll show you some of the constellations if you like. The brightest star will be Capella next week."

"Capella?" she repeats. "What one's that?"

"It's the sixth-brightest star. You should look that one up in your book. Tell me about it on Wednesday!" Primrose winks, getting up from the seat. She checks if they had any questions before heading off, leaving the girls to turn back to the textbook for answers.

* * *

She steals some time for herself on Sunday morning, drawing the curtains around her bed so the others don't bother her. It's times like this that she wonders how the next seven years will be. It isn't like she's unfamiliar with sharing a room - she and Padma have always shared, because there's so much family at home in a small house. Living with five others is different though.

An hour to herself sounds blissful. After a few minutes of brushing her hair, she reaches into the bedside table drawer and brings out a book, tattered and dog-eared.  _ The Mystical Ways of Aster Fiddlestar _ . She smiles. Years ago, she'd fallen in love with the story, where the magic wasn't quite real, but it almost was. A shape-shifter! Aster was like her hero, someone who could change their appearance whenever they liked.

_ Once upon a time, a mystical shape-shifter called Aster Fiddlestar lived in the Forest of Fleeting Shadows. Nobody ever knew what they looked like, only knew that they wore a shroud of stars. They'd sweep through the forest, dancing and prancing, as fleet-footed as any. Aster Fiddlestar surely did fiddle, and it was said that their fiddling could solve any problem with just a little tune played by the strings. _

Melting into the nostalgia, Parvati settles down until the sound of Fay and Sally-Anne rousing disturbs her from the pages.

* * *

"You're really pretty," Lavender tells her as they sit in a corner of the common room. Parvati sits in front as the other girl brushes her hair straight. "I love your hair."

Giggling, Parvati tries to stay still as the brush spokes tangle in her wavy hair. "You've said that before," she points out.

"Well, I  _ do _ ," she laughs. "Can I put it in a ponytail? I have all sorts of ribbons and hair clips that would look so nice." She has a whole sparkly bag full of hair accessories beside her.

"Okay. What's your favourite colour?" she wonders.

"Is it silly if I really like lavender?"

She doesn't think so, but there's a tone behind the words that makes her wonder if Lavender too has a lot of insecurities. That's what she thinks they are, anyway. "No, you can like whatever colours you like. And it matches your name, which is really cute! I wish my name was like that."

"What does your name mean?"

Parvati hesitates. "Daughter of the mountain. Like the Hindu goddess."

"Aren't your family Sikhs?" Lavender asks hesitantly.

"Some of my family are Hindus," she explains. "We live together, so there's a lot of different celebrations and rituals."

"Of course you live with your parents! Which is Hindu?"

The awkwardness of the moment makes her pause again. "I don't just live with my parents. I live with my aunt and her husband, and my little cousin, and my grandparents too. My uncle too but he went to live in India."

"Your... aunt is Sikh, right?"

"Yes!" She nods, relieved that she doesn't have to go through them all. "So is my dad. Mātā is Hindu, so are her parents, my grandparents. They respect each other's religions."

"So what are you and Padma, Hindu or Sikh?"

Silent, Parvati focuses on the feeling of the brush as she tries to figure out an answer. Eventually, after at least two apologies from her friend, she says, "I don't know." They don't say any more on the matter, easing back into the topic of hair as Lavender slips star-shaped barrettes on her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking suggestions and requests on my [tumblr](http://sbzpruiosnejre.tumblr.com/) if there's anything you'd like to see, or any characters you want to see (more of or explored at all)!


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